


Random Merlin ficlets

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Canon Era, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4485435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A grab-bag of short <em>Merlin</em> ficlet, drabbles, and prompt/request fics. Characters/pairings will be noted at the start of the chapter, as well any content warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arthur/Merlin, bookshop au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Merlin, with a booknerdy hipster Arthur.

Merlin finds Arthur all the way at the back of the book shop, curled up in one of the threadbare chairs, reading and drinking what's probably a cup of very strong, very sweet coffee. He's wearing the red plaid button-up and knobbly cardigan combination that Merlin finds at once ridiculous and endearing and his fringe keeps falling into his face as he reads. Also endearing, Merlin notes. 

Arthur glances up and smiles when Merlin stops to stand by his chair, then nods at the seat next to him. "You're late."

"Yeah, sorry. It's raining and I missed my bus." Merlin falls into the chair with a sigh and runs a hand through his damp hair. 

"Poor baby," Arthur murmurs, glancing back down at his book when his voice loses its slight edge of sarcasm and starts to veer toward anxious. "Here, I need a refill, so let me get you a coffee. Tea," he corrects himself quickly, "I actually remember things, unlike some people."

"I didn't forget. Just missed my bus and got massively rained on." Merlin sighs again and is almost ready to slump back into the chair when he feels Arthur's hand rest warm and heavy on his knee. He relishes the moment, given that although Arthur is probably the most affectionate boyfriend he's ever had, he's also the most shy about public displays of affection, and Merlin's worried that even looking at Arthur to acknowledge the attention will ruin it. So he closes his eyes and basks, gives a happier sigh when Arthur squeezes his knee, and opens his eyes again to reach over and push Arthur's glasses up his nose. "Tea, please?"

"Needy." Arthur smiles, though, and even pats Merlin's leg again before getting up out of his seat. Unlike Merlin, who's still rain-damp, he looks warm and a little drowsy from spending the afternoon reading or writing, his clothes rumpled and hair mussed. 

While Arthur's gone, Merlin takes another moment to bask in the utter warmth and dryness of the bookshop, then picks up the book Arthur was reading when he walked in. Like most of Arthur's book and music collection, it's something Merlin hasn't heard of before, but that he'll happily listen to Arthur talk about. Or, well, mostly, he'll happily curl up with Arthur on Arthur's bed and listen to whatever music Arthur puts on, and spend the afternoon kissing his way down the length of Arthur's body and napping afterward. He doesn't mind hearing about the books, either, because Arthur's sort of brilliant when he talks about his master's work in literature, or the work he's doing editing the uni's literary magazine. But the private, quiet affection, and the loop of mellow music that Arthur plays on his laptop during those afternoons and evenings, well, Merlin can't help but like that better. 

"Here. _Tea._ I put honey in it." Arthur hovers next to Merlin for a bit, holding his own mug and the massive cup of tea he's procured for Merlin, then sits after Merlin accepts the honeyed tea. A sudden, strange shyness comes over him -- a brief smile, an almost unconscious adjusting of his glasses, a slight worried frown when Merlin shivers and wraps his hands around the tea cup -- and he shifts in his seat. "Are you -- do you need --"

"No, it's fine. I'm -- oh. Thanks." Merlin peers over the edge of his tea to watch Arthur pull off his cardigan, then nestles into its warmth when Arthur drapes it over his shoulders. Really, it's the most hideous jumper, all done in odd shades of beige and green, but it smells faintly of soap and coffee and books. "So. You wanted to get dinner at that poetry thing tonight?" he asks after a few minutes of tea and getting out his own coursework. 

"I did. If you don't mind? I know it's not your favorite."

Merlin shrugs. "I don't mind," he says, "and it has to be better than that documentary you made me watch."

"I didn't make you." Arthur glances over his glasses, then shakes his head at Merlin's return glare. "You don't need to come."

"I know. But I want to," Merlin says, dangerously close to admitting how the low catch in Arthur's voice and the pale skin at his unbuttoned collar are starting to go with the word 'favorite' in his mind.


	2. Arthur/Merlin/Morgana, reincarnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Merlin/Morgana, memories, magic, and reincarnation

"Avalon," Arthur wonders as the mists close behind them. "I only remember the silence, the scent of apples, the sound of your voice."

Morgana kisses the palm of his hand; his skin is warm, the taste and scent of him familiar, though so long missed. "Try not to force the memories." 

"I wish I remembered the way you do. If I had magic--"

"What makes you think you don't? You were born of magic, Arthur." She tugs his hand to coax him along and her heart swells with affection, then with desire, when  
he laughs. "What?"

"You sound the same." 

*

"Do you remember me?" she asks and presses her hands to Merlin's chest. 

He nods; her touch makes him ache with longing he hasn't let himself feel in years. "Morgana Pendragon." Merlin smiles, remembers the first time he saw her in the banquet hall at Camelot, and sinks into the warmth of memory and magic. "They called you Morgan of the Fairies, the priestess of Avalon, the last of her kind," Merlin murmurs. "I always remember you, Morgana."

He kisses her hard, harder than Arthur does, harder than he kisses Arthur, and buries his face in the curve of her neck. 

*

"Merlin," Arthur says and there is wonder in his voice again as he traces Merlin's nose and lips and cheeks with the tips of his fingers. "I think I've lived a hundred lifetimes before --"

"Yes," Merlin says, and "I know," and he leans into Arthur's touch, close enough to brush his lips over Arthur's when Arthur shudders. "We _know_ ," Merlin repeats, and though his voice is deep and rough, his hands are careful as they map over Arthur's chest. 

There's a strange fragility in the way Morgana touches him, too, a carefulness for which Arthur is silently grateful.


	3. Arthur/Merlin, caretaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Merlin, Arthur looks after Merlin when he's exhausted and overworked. (Canon au)

"Soup. And make sure it's hot. Not warm," Arthur added, looking directly at the page until he quailed a bit under Arthur's gaze, "but hot. Soup, and bread, and some meat and cheese. And sweet pudding, if there's any in the kitchens. Oh, and strong, honey mead. All right?"

"Y-yes, your majesty." The page - Nicholas, Arthur thought, but he wasn't certain, that might be the boy's older brother - nodded and did his best to hide his fear under a very earnest sort of look. "Hot soup, bread, meat, cheese, and pudding. And mead."

"Very good. Have that all sent up to my chambers as soon as possible. And," Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and nodded when the page paused mid-step, "thank you. Nicholas, yes?"

The page - Nicholas - nodded, now looking a bit proud in spite of his wariness. 

"Go on, then."

"Yes, your majesty." Nicholas took another step, bowed, and then scarpered off to the kitchens.

Arthur waited another moment, lets his breath out in a tired sigh, and closed the door. The fire in the anteroom needed building up. Usually, he wouldn't have bothered, not for the night, especially if his bed chambers were quite warm, but tonight he'd have it seen to. It wasn't so much of a luxury, not after so weeks away from Camelot and so many nights spent sleeping in a camp bed. The autumn nights were cold and even the pavilion set up for the king and his consort wasn't the warmest place to sleep this time of year. 

"I thought I told you to get in bed already." Arms crossed over his chest once more, Arthur stopped at the entrance to the bedchamber. "You've been up long enough today."

Merlin looked up from his seat at the table in their private rooms. He was leafing through the piles of parchment in front of him and didn't look any better than he had when they'd arrived home a few hours ago. "It's warm enough in here."

"But you can get in bed if you like." Merlin was right - their bedchamber _was_ warm enough - but there wasn't any reason for him to be sitting up like that now there was a bed. A warm, dry bed, Arthur thought, and gave it a wistful glance himself. "How are you feeling?"

"Truly? Rather wretched," Merlin added in reply to Arthur's nod. "My head's splitting..."

"And you sound completely exhausted," Arthur pointed out. He tried to keep his voice level, but worry edged around his words and he didn't stop himself from standing behind Merlin to rub his shoulders. "You need to rest..."

Merlin just shrugged. "Don't you need to get through some of these papers?"

"Yes, I do. But you don't. Besides, I'm only going to talk to Morgana about them tonight. She won't mind if you decide to get in bed."

Merlin shrugged again, then turned to his side and muffled a yawn into his sleeve. "Maybe... after we have supper. I'll see."

"All right. I just... all right," Arthur repeated and sat down next to Merlin, close enough that he could pet Merlin's hair or rub his back or lean in to inhale the scent of his skin, warm and scrubbed clean. He'd dressed Merlin in one of his own tunics after they'd bathed, so he smelled of Arthur's soap and freshly washed linen. "Supper, then we'll rest?"

Merlin stared down at the work in front of him, frowned, and, finally, drooped into Arthur's touch. "Or we could rest a bit now?"

"Or… maybe that."

There was enough agreement in Merlin's voice for Arthur to tug him from his seat at the table and walk him over to the bed, where he coaxed Merlin to sit back against the pillows, and then back against Arthur's chest once Arthur joined him on the bed. 

For all the years that they'd known each other, for all the years that they'd been together, for all the years that Arthur had known Merlin, truly known him, Arthur was still amazed at how strong Merlin was. How powerful he was, how brave he could be, and how, behind the power and strength and magic, there was such fragility, the sort Merlin kept well-hidden and only let Arthur see. 

The thought had Arthur burying his face in the back of Merlin's neck and pressing quiet kisses to his skin. "Darling," he murmured, voice low and rough with emotion, and buried his face in Merlin's neck once more when Merlin took up his hand to kiss the palm.


	4. Arthur/Merlin, genre prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur/Merlin, short ficlets based on genre prompts (angst, au, fluff, hurt/comfort)

_i. angst; canon; post-series; canon-compliant death_

Merlin placed the ring on the table, then picked it up again to finger the edges. Though the insignia was found throughout the kingdom, only the royal family of Camelot had the right to use the dragon rampant on official documents and personal correspondence. Taking the ring from the king’s chamber was akin to treason.

Merlin couldn’t convince himself to return the ring, to place it back inside the small drawer next to the red wax Arthur used to seal his letters. He never wore the ring; he claimed it was too heavy on his hand, too ill-fitting, too worn from all the years it spent on his grandfather’s right hand.

Nobody would miss it. Nobody would notice, now that Arthur… now that Arthur had no need for it.

Merlin clutched the ring in his hand, made a tight fist around it, and pressed the fist to his chest to stop his breath from catching. Arthur had no need for any of this, and yet Merlin still had need of him, for the small, thoughtful frown that always appeared on his face as he pressed the old ring into the hot wax, for the way the firelight caught the gold that threaded through his hair.

Nobody would miss the ring, just as nobody would miss Merlin after he slipped away from Camelot, now that they were caught up in missing their lost king.

 

_ii. AU; historical au_

Arthur makes his way across the assembly room the best way he knows how. He dances with Gwen, and Freya, and even with Morgana, though she calls him ridiculous, and finally with Vivian, whom he saves for last, because she is just shy of too young for any of the events in Bath, and though he is only one of her dull older cousins, he must be more interesting than her overprotective Mama.

He reaches the card-room right after Merlin and stands behind the other man, close enough to feel the warmth of Merlin’s skin through his clothing. If he closes his eyes, only for a moment, he can recall the pale, slim lines of Merlin’s body and the way his eyelashes fanned dark and soft against his cheek as he slept.

One moment is all that Arthur allows himself before he places a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Are you playing tonight?”

Merlin turns and smiles. “I don’t think so; my aunt’s happy enough on her own until my uncle joins her.”

Arthur returns the smile, his hand slipping from Merlin’s shoulder in a careful, measured movement, neither too familiar nor too formal. After a few minutes in the card-room, he’ll offer the use of his carriage to Merlin’s aunt, then he and Merlin will fetch tea, and finally, when the evening has reached such a pitch that neither the youngest son of a country gentleman nor a young physician will be needed, they’ll slip out into the cool evening together, finally alone.

 

_iii. fluff; canon; magic_

“No,” Merlin says, though in his heart he knows he’ll say yes. He always says yes and it’s always Arthur’s fault, with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid blond hair and that stupid, little, needy expression that Merlin knows doesn’t actually appear on purpose, but he wouldn’t really put it past Arthur.

“Please? Just… tonight?” Arthur smiles, then frowns, and then, there, fuck, there it is, that stupid expression that makes something weird odd and fond rise up in Merlin’s chest.

He sighs and shakes his head, tries to avoid Arthur’s pleas for the next ten minutes, and finally buries his face in his hands and nods when Arthur wraps his arms around Merlin’s shoulders and rubs his face in Merlin’s hair. 

“Please?” he says again, his voice small and soft, and he smiles against Merlin’s ear, which is also stupid, because how is is actually, really possible to be able to feel somebody smile against your ear.

Well. That’s Arthur, though, stupid, impossible, unrealistic Arthur.

Arthur who loves Merlin’s magic just as much as he loves Merlin, who doesn’t really ask for much in the way of magic.

(Who doesn’t really ask for much, all right, that’s true.)

Save for this: to spend the evening on the warm flagstones, he and Merlin curled around each other, drinking spiced wine from one goblet, the fire dancing in bright, swirling patterns that Merlin directs with the barest flick of his wrist.

 

_iv. hurt/comfort; modern office au_

Merlin drops a stack of file folders atop Arthur’s desk, takes one look at Arthur, and immediately goes back to his own desk outside Arthur’s office. He returns with a cup of hot tea and the tissue box from his own desk and deposits both in front of his boss despite the half-snarl, half-cough he gets from Arthur.

“Good morning. You have the ten o’clock meeting with your uncle today, and then immediately after that, the two of you will be having lunch with your father since it’ll probably run late,. I’ve already put the reservation in at …” Merlin pauses, waits for Arthur to stop coughing, and sighs a bit when Arthur refuses to drink any of the tea. “… at Claude’s. Do you think you’ll be back for the workshop at two?”

Arthur nods, and rubs at his face. He looks terrible, really, pale and tired, his eyes are watery and his nose is pink, and even though he came into work later than usual, he doesn’t quite look ready for the day to start.

“I’ll be there. Tell them to start the presentation without me if I’m late, but…” Arthur holds back a cough, then sniffles a bit. “Just… they can start. You should check the room ahead of time, though. Make sure the coffee and tea service is set up, and that the tech is working. Don’t do that,” he adds when Merlin attempts to be subtle and nudge the tea closer to him.

“You sound awful. The tea will help. Fine, fine,” he adds before Arthur can try snarling at him again and get himself caught up in another coughing fit.

It’s easier to wait, anyway. To let Arthur get through his emails and memos and interoffice paperwork, to sift through his own inboxes and get himself a cup of tea, and chat with Gwen in the staff kitchen.

A half hour later Arthur looks less cranky, but more droopish and sniffly behind his closed office door. He lets Merlin give him throat sweets and a fresh cup of tea. He even drinks it, cupping his hands around the mug and breathing in the steam while Merlin edits his appointment list for the day.

“Morning meeting, lunch, skip the workshop?” he asks, then touches Arthur on the shoulder when he shakes his head. “Right. Go to the workshop, then leave early. You only need to make sure it gets started smoothly. Come back here and finish up what you need to, then go home.”

“Wish you wouldn’t boss me around like that… Fussy.” Arthur leans into the touch, though, and closes his eyes briefly. 

“No, you don’t. You pay me to talk to you like that.” Merlin squeezes Arthur’s shoulder, and tugs Arthur closer into a hug. “You don’t need to pay me for the fussing, though. I do that on my own.”


	5. Arthur/Merlin, sports AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU where Arthur is a professional footie player and Merlin is the team's physical therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, this is mostly hurt/comfort (minor illness) fluff and pining, and I don't really know anything about sports, so I apologize for that...

Arthur sneezed hoarsely into the crook of his elbow and gave a miserable little cough. His head hurt and his throat hurt and even his ears sort of hurt from the congestion. He even groaned a little when he coughed and then rubbed at his neck to try and help the ache there.

So, of course, that was the exact moment when Merlin decided to come to his office. Of course. He couldn't have arrived a few minutes ago when Arthur wasn't making any noise and was just standing in the corridor, flicking through messages on his mobile unobtrusively.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Health & Safety?" Merlin glanced at Arthur before unlocking his door and heading toward his desk to dump a stack of empty file folders there. He motioned Arthur to come in after him, and nodded at the chair by his desk.

"I am... Ugh. This is Health & Safety." Arthur curled himself up as best he could in the small, hard chair next to Merlin's desk. "Aren't you supposed to be having a day off?"

Merlin glanced at Arthur again over the rims of his glasses and smiled briefly. He'd just come in from the outside, so his hair was damp and ruffled up from the wind and rain and the hoodie he had on with his track suit bottoms and tee shirt looked a little rain-damp, too. Merlin looked warm, though, what with the way he was smiling and how he had tea in his travel mug. 

Unlike Arthur, who just felt chilly and full of headcold and was spending his lunch break avoiding the medic he was supposed to be seeing for the cold. 

"Yes, well, easier to get some of this paperwork taken care of when I have time. And I'm not sure you'll get exactly what you need from this H&S office." Merlin stacked the folders more neatly and sat down at his desk. "You look terrible. Worse than yesterday. You were out on the pitch this morning?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin in what what meant to be a glare but quickly transformed into the need to tuck his face back into the sleeve of his warm up jacket for another sneeze. 

"Bless you! Here..." Merlin nudged his foot against Arthur's when Arthur didn't raise his head. 

Arthur coughed briefly, hoping it might help clear his throat. It just made it hurt more, along with the throb in his sinuses. Eventually, though, he lifted his head from his arm to blink at Merlin. "What? Oh. Thanks." He blinked at the box of tissues Merlin had placed next to him, realized he actually needed them rather badly, and pulled at least three out of the box. 

"There, that has to feel better," Merlin said after blew his nose. 

Arthur just shrugged. It actually made his sinuses hurt to blow his nose, but it also made it easier for him to breathe. A little easier, anyway. "I suppose. Can I--" He nodded at the Kleenex. 

"Sure." Merlin nudged the tissue box closer to Arthur. "Do you want me to ring Gwen? She's probably--"

"No! I-I mean..." Arthur turned aside to cough at his shoulder and kept coughing. By the time he caught his breath, his eyes were watering and his nose felt just as stuffed up as it had a few minutes ago. "Sorry," he croaked. "Just a cold..."

"You're completely ill. You sound like you have every cold that's been going around here for the past couple months." 

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and slumped into the chair. "I just sound awful."

"You look awful."

"I look fine." Arthur shrugged and looked away from Merlin. He'd been trying to avoid this cold for at least the past week and up until two days ago, he'd been successful. 

Mostly successful. Successful enough that he'd only had a runny nose and sore throat to deal with. But both those symptoms had lingered for a week, through a few days of grueling practices before two away games that they'd ended up having to play despite the cold rain and wind up north. Arthur hadn't felt that bad during the two games, powered by caffeine and adrenaline and the paracetamol Merlin had practically shoved down his throat. 

The night he'd returned home, he'd had a long, hot shower and some LemSip, and had collapsed into bed with the intention of sleeping as long as humanly possible. He'd woken up late the next morning stuffy and sneezy and really rather miserable. 

That was yesterday and today wasn't looking much better. Even the quick practice session they'd had that morning had taken more out of Arthur than he'd expected, even with some cold medicine. He probably ought to go down to Gwen and have her or Gaius take a look at him, but it was so much easier and nicer to just sit in Merlin's office and listen to him witter on about how Arthur should take better care of himself. He even drifted off for a minute or two, listening to Merlin and rubbing at his nose and pondering if he actually felt warmer, or maybe he just felt less damp, or maybe Merlin just kept his office warmer than the rest of H&S. 

"-- and I'll drop you off first, if you like, all right?" Merlin asked. 

Arthur sniffled and coughed and gave Merlin an uncertain look. "Um..." Arthur rubbed his nose against the cuff of his jacket. "... no?"

 

\- - - 

 

"Maybe you ought to take a cold tablet today..." Merlin found the packet in one of the carrier bags from the chemist and read the label. "It'll help with coughing and sneezing and stuffy head. It's all right if it makes you sleepy," he added when Arthur looked doubtful.

"But it's only just past noon. I'm usually..." Arthur shrugged. 

"I know. But you'd be useless out there today. You can sleep for a couple hours this afternoon, then watch some telly or whatever, and then get some more rest tonight."

Arthur took the cold medicine from Merlin's hands and examined it himself. He still looked doubtful, but a few coughs and a rub to his stuffed-up nose seemed enough to convince him to take at least one dose. "Maybe if I just take this stuff today, I'll feel decent enough tomorrow..."

"Well, maybe. You're completely ill, though." 

"It's only a cold, Merlin."

"Hm." Merlin rested his palm against Arthur's forehead, then held the back of his hand to Arthur's cheek. He really should've just taken Arthur's temperature in his office, where he had a good, fast, and accurate thermometer. "How are your sinuses feeling?"

"They're fine. Stop it. Just--"

Merlin's fingers brushed over Arthur's forehead again and he leaned in closer at the tiny, sighing, almost whimpering noise Arthur made in reply. 

"Right. You're taking that cold medicine every eight hours, just like the box says. It has a good decongestant in it, so that should definitely help. You're going to have to drink a lot of fluids, too, so you stay hydrated."

"Merlin..." Arthur sighed again and rubbed his face against Merlin's hand. "You do actually remember that you're a physical therapist, right? Not your area of expertise here."

But you are, you're my-- Merlin bit his lip and stopped the thought right there. Arthur was his friend, and they were sort of co-workers, though Arthur would probably never think of the team PT as a colleague. 

Well. Merlin wasn't entirely sure what Arthur thought about him at all, to be honest. He seemed to like Merlin enough to want to spend a good deal of his free time during the day taking up space in Merlin's office, and they had dinner together after work a couple times a week. 

"I know a fair bit more than you do. I wasn't the one pushing you go out onto the pitch this morning." 

Arthur sighed and coughed, and coughed again, and looked altogether miserable with cold. "I wasn't so bad this morning, I told you. Not so bad now..."

"I know, it's just a cold. Go on, change into something warm and comfortable. I'll put the kettle on." 

Arthur nodded and rubbed at his face. His sinuses probably were bothering him, if the wince of pain on his face was any indication. Fluids and decongestants would help, and Merlin could always beg Gwen to stop by Arthur's flat if he started feeling really poorly.


	6. 3 Sentence AU ficlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 sentence AU prompt/request ficlets. (Originally posted on tumblr.) Pairings include Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Morgana, Morgana/Morgause

**i. Gwen/Morgana, spies (for emei)**

“You’re always better at this than I am, talking to people and looking sympathetic and … well, you’re really just better at the whole people part of this job,” Morgana says, half-turning her head as Gwen zip the back of her dress up for her. 

“Well, you don’t actually need to talk to anyone, just listen, and make sure we can listen, too,” Gwen adds, then nudges Morgana’s shoulder to turn her around and fasten the mic to the front of her dress.

“Go in, mingle, look as if you want people to impress you so they keep talking, and then slip out before anyone realizes you haven’t said anything, I’ll be waiting for you.”

* * *

**ii. Arthur/Merlin, gardener!Merlin (for tracionn)**

Arthur watches his father’s new gardener for three weeks before working up the nerve to talk to him, and when he does, he spends more time staring at the way Merlin’s dark hair curls at the nape of his neck, and how he keeps his hands neat and clean despite having spent hours working in the dirt. 

“How did you do it?” Arthur asks, months after that first conversation, “How did you get the garden to bloom? It hasn’t looked this, everyone says, since my mother died.” 

Merlin smiles and shrugs, and touches Arthur’s cheek, the scent of earth and greenery on his fingers as he leans in to kiss Arthur.

* * *

**iii. Arthur/Merlin, historical au (for emjayelle; Renaissance England au)**

Arthur hears that Merlin is in London before he sees Merlin, which rouses a particular anger inside him, the hot, suffocating feeling that the city is too much, too close, too public.

“Your sister is my patron, everyone thinks they’re for her,” Merlin says as Arthur reads the poems Merlin’s brought to Hampton Court, “That will keep us safe.”

Worry chokes the anger that rises up in Arthur’s throat, and he pulls Merlin closer to him, buries Merlin’s face in his chest, and prays that Merlin is right.

* * *

**iv. Morgana/Morgause, bank robbery (for teatimeeverybody)**

“You look beautiful,” Morgause says, kisses Morgana, and smoothes the soft pink-coral color over Morgana’s lips to cover the kiss. 

With her hair pulled back, pearl earrings, a cotton dress, with matching purse and shoes, Morgana could be anyone come to cash a check or take out money from the savings account–a teacher or doctor or lawyer or mother.

“Beautiful and dangerous,” Morgause adds before she slips the lipstick into Morgana’s purse where it clinks against the slim, dark weapon inside.

* * *

**v. Arthur/Merlin, uni au, accidentally sat down in wrong lecture hall (for vulpesvulpe)**

Arthur’s torn: tell adorable skinny boy he’s in the wrong lecture and thus save him from embarrassment or not tell, so as to have at least thirty more minutes to watch this boy furiously take notes in tight, jagged penmanship. 

Some scrap of nobility must exist deep inside him, because he starts to feel bad after about two minutes and he leans in to write on the boy’s syllabus that he needs to be in Room 206 (not 209) for Ed Psych (not Child Psych). 

Arthur gets his reward in the form of a rather broad, rather abashed smile and a scribbled mobile number in the corner of his own lecture notes. 

* * *

**vi. Gwen/Morgana, modern au, day at the beach (for theladyragnell)**

Gwen curls up next to Morgana on the hotel bed, combs her fingers through Morgana’s hair to untangle it from the wind and waves. She can still smell the salt of the ocean and the warmth of the sun in Morgana’s hair, can still taste the sweet tang of suncream on her skin when she leans in to brush her lips against Morgana’s shoulder. 

“We’ll go back out, after the sun sets,” Morgana says before Gwen can ask, “but let’s stay in for a little while and just listen to the ocean.” 


	7. Arthur/Merlin, PA Merlin, h/c

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If somebody's going to look after Arthur, it might as well be Merlin, who's already too fond of his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For azile teacup, who is fond of vulnerable Arthur. <3

Merlin can tell that the first truly cold morning of winter has arrived when he wakes up and immediately wants to burrow back down into the pile of his duvet and the warm, fleece blanket. He gives himself five more minutes in bed before pulling himself to shower, have a couple slices of toast and a cup of tea, and to get dressed for work. Which today includes his heavy wool coat and the heavy knit scarf and beanie hat that he'd managed to avoid wearing up until now, despite the chilly mornings and evenings. 

It's definitely cold when he gets outside; cold enough that he doesn't regret the extra layers during his walk to the tube stop, and is pretty sure he won't regret them on the way home, no matter how crowded the underground is after work.

Of course, exactly how crowded his commute home will be depends on when he gets off work tonight. Arthur has a series of meetings that Merlin's been helping him prep for at the start and end of most work days this week. He's pretty sure the last couple are the ones that Arthur's completely in charge of running, which means Merlin's in charge of getting the room set up and ordering coffee and lunch. Which is fine - Merlin quite likes that aspect of his job. It's definitely easier than dealing with disgruntled clients.

Or a disgruntled Arthur. 

Well, no. Or, well. yes, but no. Merlin doesn't generally mind dealing with Arthur, even when he's disgruntled. He hasn't been so bad this week, despite the long days and the amount of time spent in the conference room. 

He'll probably crash at the end of the week, though, Merlin thinks, then remembers, as he walks into work, that it being Thursday, Arthur's probably already on the edge of disgruntled.

"Morning," Merlin says when he gets to his desk and sees Arthur's already at work. There's no answer, and Merlin just shakes his head and starts up his computer while he gets out of all his layers. "Did you go home last night? Because you're never here before I am..."

"No, Merlin. I slept in my office," Arthur replies after a moment, and behind the sarcasm in his voice, there's something else - a hoarse little catch at the end of the sentence, enough that Merlin can hear him give a quick, quiet cough right after. "I need you to put together a portfolio before my uncle gets here."

"Right, right. The one I started yesterday. I should have all the files ready. Tea first?" Merlin asks, trying to smooth down his hair and necktie before going into Arthur's office. At least it's warm inside, and even with the hundred little tasks that go along with the meeting schedule, Merlin should have time for lunch with Gwen this afternoon, though it'll just be the leftovers from the lunch meeting Arthur has today. 

From his office, Arthur gives another quiet, brief cough, then a louder one. Merlin half wonders if Arthur's just being impatient about the portfolio, but only until he peeks into Arthur's office and finds him sitting at his desk, a spread of colorful charts and graphs and memos spread out in front him. He's rubbing his eyes and drooping a bit, and though his suit jacket's on a hanger to stop it from getting creased before the meeting, he has a smart, vee-neck jumper on over his shirt and tie. 

"Pardon? Oh, yes, tea first. And have tea and coffee service sent up to the meeting room, when you have a chance." 

"Right. Tea, coffee... biscuits? No biscuits," Merlin says when Arthur looks up at him and shakes his head. 

"We're having lunch at the end of the meeting, we don't need biscuits. Make sure there's water along with the tea and coffee for lunch, though." 

"That's already set up, but I'll check. Anything else?"

Arthur thinks for a few moments. He looks ready to ask for something else, then shakes his head and rubs both hands over his face. "I have to head over to my father's office after lunch, so I'll get in touch with you from there. I'm sure we'll have work to get through from the meeting." 

"I can come with you." 

Arthur shakes his head again. "You know that my father's like. He hardly wants his own PA in the room when we have these meetings. Anyway, you should take a couple hours for lunch. Or leave early today, if you want to." 

"Might do that. Not that I've minded the late nights color-coding folders and putting together endless PowerPoint presentations for this week's meetings..."

"I know. It's a misery." Arthur sighs, and starts to stack up the papers on his desk. He turns aside to cough a couple times while he does so, then shuffles the papers into a portfolio. "I'm going to talk to Morgana before the meeting..."

"That's fine. I'll probably be in the meeting room helping with the set up, so I'll see you when you get up there, too."

"Right. You can bring my uncle's portfolio you go up there. Tea?" he asks, almost hesitantly, and coughs again. 

"Tea." Merlin smiles, and turns to get tea for both of Arthur. 

Who rather looks like he needs a good cup of very hot, very strong tea to get him through the meeting. He has that smudged sort of look on his face that speaks to the fatigue of too many early mornings at work and late nights working from home. His voice is getting that rough edge to it, too, that usually means he's getting ill. Merlin's worked for Arthur long enough to have seen him try to fight off a cold and realize that the coughing and scratchy voice were signs of the inevitable.

Merlin can't help but smile as he walks to the staff lounge. He's probably a bit too fond and bit too protective of Arthur, but, really, it's not as if Arthur seems to mind the way Merlin looks after him.

Somebody has to, after all, and there's no reason why it ought not be Merlin.

*

The next morning, Merlin leaves for work a little earlier than usual -- just fifteen minutes or so, though it means he has to take his toast to eat on the walk to the tube stop, and he learns never to do that again on a damp autumn morning. Too difficult to eat with gloves on, and while he doesn't mind cold toast, this morning's toast is a little too cold for his taste. 

It's worth to get to work earlier than Arthur, though. He has time to get tea ready and to organize his own inbox before taking a look at Arthur's. And while Arthur doesn't have any meetings or conference calls this morning -- for the first time this week -- he does mostly likely have a cold. Which, depending on how Arthur's feeling today, might be just as much work managing as the meetings and conferences and presentations from earlier in the week. 

Merlin clears off Arthur's desk for him and checks that he actually has a box of tissues in his office. After that, there's not much peremptory fussing that he can do, so Merlin sits down at his own desk to have a cup of tea and check his email messages. He even has time to chat online with Gwen for a few minutes about their weekend dinner party plans, and then sign off right before Arthur arrives at his usual nine o'clock start time.

"Good morning," Merlin says, and smiles when Arthur stops at his desk.

"Morning... Oh, you've made tea already?" Arthur glances at Merlin's Doctor Who mug, sniffles quietly, and puts his briefcase down to start pulling off his gloves. 

"I have. Do you want tea first, or the reports from yesterday's meetings?" Merlin starts to assemble the reports, then looks up when Arthur sniffles again. 

Frankly, he just looks ill. Not horribly so, but Merlin can really tell his cold's flourished since he went home from work last night. Aside from his red nose and tired eyes and the pale, fatigued look about him, he's wearing his glasses this morning. He only really wears them to work when he's not feeling well, or when he's too tired to bother putting them. Merlin's starting to suspect that this morning, it's both. 

"I really should look through those reports," Arthur says, which means he wants the tea, but thinks he ought to ask for the paperwork first. 

Which is both sort of ridiculous and sort of endearing. Or, well, it's possibly his stuffy voice that makes it a bit endearing, Merlin thinks, and follows Arthur into his office with a stack of files and cup of hot tea. 

"Sometimes I think you'd rather a valet than a personal assistant," he murmurs when he helps Arthur out of his coat, and pauses when he can see that Arthur's also wearing a number of warm layers. Casual Friday at the office usually just means no jacket or tie for Arthur, but today he has on a jumper, button up shirt, and tee shirt, and he keeps his scarf on after Merlin hangs up his coat. 

"Hm. Then I'd have to see you all the time. Though I suppose it wouldn't be so bad," Arthur replies and hides a brief, shy moment in his hanky when he dabs at his nose.

"Yes, well, the feeling's mutual," Merlin says. He pats Arthur on the shoulder, nudging him towards his desk chair, then slides the tea in closer to him after he sits down. 

Arthur glances up at Merlin, smiles, and glances away, shy for another moment. "Well. Then. That's... Yes. Mutual?" 

Merlin's not sure if it's the way Arthur's glasses slip down his nose a bit, or if it's the way his cold makes him sound tired and vulnerable, or if it's something else, something inside Merlin himself that's been waiting for the perfect, quiet moment, but he ends up rests his hand on Arthur's shoulder and rubbing warmly. 

"Yes," he murmurs. "It is rather like that." 

Arthur tenses under his touch, then relaxes and lets out a sigh, and then coughs. "Sorry... I'm ill." 

"Yes, I had realized that, too. If you're good, I'll bring you another cup of tea, and maybe even order us takeaway for lunch while we get through the mountain of post-meeting paperwork." 

Arthur coughs again, and reaches up to take off his glasses and rub his face. "I won't complain if you get order soup..." 

"I'm not surprised." Merlin rubs Arthur's shoulder again, then his back. "Tea, and then soup later, and maybe I'll even figure out a way to make sure you have tea and medicine tomorrow morning." 

"Of course you'll -- wait. Tomorrow's Saturday." 

Merlin nods. He doesn't quite let himself think about waking up next to Arthur, or going over to his flat first thing on a Saturday morning to bring him breakfast in bed, but, well.... No, actually, he does let himself do just that, if only for a few moments. 

"I'll figure something out." 

Arthur thinks for a moment, then leans back into Merlin's touch. "I wouldn't mind that either." He's quiet for another moment, then puts his glasses back on. "I should get through some of this while I'm still awake enough to do so..."

Merlin gives Arthur's shoulder a squeeze, then goes to fetch his own stack of work and cup tea, happily thinking about all the small ways in which Arthur might let Merlin look after him when they're not at work.


	8. Arthur/Merlin, flatmates, h/c

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flatmates AU. Arthur is under the weather and feeling shy about it and Merlin just wants to cuddle him better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Azile Teacup. <3

The thought of taking the bus home fills Arthur with the sort of sinking dread that almost makes him consider staying in his office for the night. Even though it's chilly outside, the bus will be hot and stuffy and somebody is bound to glare at him when he starts coughing. 

 

Arthur sighs and rubs his forehead. It'll be too difficult to get a cab at this time of the day, or he'd have to ring for one, and it seems ridiculous to waste the money. Especially when he's going to have to stop at the chemist on the way home to get tissues and cold medicine and some other supplies. Besides, he doesn't live that far from the uni, just far enough that he doesn't feel like walking tonight.

 

The sinking feeling settles in the pit of his stomach again. He'd done so well through the summer--even his hay fever had been relatively mild through the grass pollen season this year. So, of course, his body was betraying him now that it was autumn and all the first-years were back on campus with all their germs. 

 

Arthur lets out another sigh and this time just rests his forehead against his hands. His throat hurts and his head hurts and his nose hasn't been able to stop running for the past couple hours and is in the process of getting quite stuffy. He probably looks a wreck and he's pretty sure he doesn't sound much better. 

 

So, yes: he's spent the whole eight hours that he's been at work coming down with a cold. He's probably not going to be in any better state once he gets home, and, really, all he wants is to be home, in his room, where it's quiet and warm and he can watch Netflix on his laptop and ignore how horrible he looks and sounds and feels. 

 

Maybe Merlin won't mind. Maybe he's the sort of roommate who isn't by this sort of thing and will just take in stride. 

 

Of course, Arthur figures, it's probably better to assume that he will be bothered, and that Arthur ought to stay out of the way as much as possible. It's better than assuming Merlin won't mind, and then be disappointed later on in the winter when Arthur brings home his second or third cold of the season and Merlin spends the week avoiding him or glaring at him or asking him why he's never well. 

 

Which, of course he's well more than he's ill, Arthur knows that. He's just ridiculously susceptible to the cold viruses that make their way around campus. 

 

At least he'd held out for a the first few weeks this term. His first year working on his PhD and teaching he'd been ill right at the start of the first month, and seemed to sniffle and cough his way through most of the fall and winter. Having his students hand in their work online had helped, as had remembering to actually get enough rest and food. He still managed a few colds every year, though, and they never seemed convenient. This term, he'd only had the sore throat and runny nose thing early one, and now... 

 

Now this. 

 

Arthur neatly arranges the books and papers on his desk, quickly makes a to-do list for the next day, and puts what materials he needed for home in his bag. He might be able to get through a chapter or two of reading tonight. 

 

Unless he could fall asleep early--that would really be the best case scenario. He'd stop on the way home for honey and lemon juice for his tea, and get the blackcurrant LemSip and throat sweets that his father used to get for him when he was small and snuffly with a cold. 

 

That would be all right, Arthur decides. He can have a quick sandwich for dinner, then have his hot medicine and tea in his room, and hopefully just sleep a good long time and not bother his flatmate with his sniffles and coughs. 

 

//

 

Merlin sits down on the edge of Arthur's bed and hands him a cup of tea. He'd brought the bottle of ibuprofen along with him, too, but now he thinks that perhaps Arthur needs something more than painkillers. Arthur had said he'd had a headache when he came home from work, but it doesn't take long for Merlin to realize his flatmate is coming down ill. 

 

"How are you feeling?"

 

Arthur shrugs and stares down at his tea. 

 

"You look tired," he says, and smoothes the warm, red fleece blanket over Arthur's legs. 

 

Actually, he looks awful. Pale and exhausted, and there's a faint flush of fever over his cheeks. Merlin leans forward to touch Arthur's face, then lets his hand fall away when Arthur tenses at the movement. 

 

"Sorry," Merlin says, and edges away a bit. Arthur usually keeps to himself when he doesn't feel well; he might not be comfortable with the attention. 

 

Arthur frowns down at his tea again and shakes his head. "No, it's... You don't need to--" he swallows and winces, then takes a few careful sips of his tea. "Don't need to do anything like this for me. This happens a lot," he adds, and looks like he's about to apologize. 

 

For some reason, that makes Merlin want to fuss at Arthur even more. This is the second time Arthur's been ill since the academic year started, and it's looking to be worse than the first. 

 

And it's probably just a cold, but a rather bad one. Arthur had been sniffling and coughing for a few days, and he'd been looking worn down since the beginning of the week. His voice had sounded weak and strained that morning, and now he sounds congested and as if his throat hurts something terrible. 

 

Merlin's assumption is proven to be correct when Arthur turns aside to sneeze. Or, well, three low, rough sneezes that Arthur contains in the crook of his elbow. 

 

Arthur coughs after the first two sneezes, then curls in on himself to build up to and finally let out a third.

 

"Bless you," Merlin says quietly and lets his hand rest on Arthur's leg. They're both quiet for a few minutes, Merlin rubbing Arthur's leg and Arthur sipping from his tea. 

 

Poor Arthur, he really has caught some sort of miserable cold. He'd changed into sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a hoodie, and Merlin suspects he has thicker socks on under the blanket, and he still looks chilly. He rubs at his face with one hand, the other still holding his tea close to his chest, and somehow manages to droop against the pillows piled up against his headboard. 

 

"Excuse me," he says, and he sounds so tired and worried. "I'm sure it's just a cold, but..."

 

"But what?" Merlin pets Arthur's leg through the soft, thick fleece and gives him a careful smile. "I'll turn the heat up a little. It's really cold tonight, anyway," he adds when Arthur frowns. "Do you want me to get you some medicine?"

 

"Oh, I... um... I have--" He sits up from the bed and points toward the small table by his desk, where he had a kettle and a few mugs. 

 

"Well, that's easy enough then. No need for you to get out of bed." Merlin pats Arthur's leg and lets his hand linger a few more moments before standing up and seeking out the medicine. 

 

There's a few bottles of water by the kettle, so Merlin fills it up and turns it on, then looks through the collection of tea bags and honey on the table. When Arthur tells him to, he opens up the bottom drawer of the desk and finds more tea and a good few cold remedies--cough sweets, throat spray, cough medicine, chest rub, Vicks syrup for colds and flu, and a couple packets of LemSip. 

 

"That, please. The LemSip, if not too much trouble?"

 

"Of course it's not. The hot medicine is best, anyway, when you feel really bad." 

 

Arthur nods, though the gesture is almost one of resignation, and he eases back against the pillows while Merlin mixes up LemSip for him, and then a cup of tea. 

 

//

 

When he's finished with the medicine, Merlin presses the tea into Arthur's hands, then pets his hair gently. "I'm going to get another box of tissues, and then change into my pajamas, okay? Be right back, though. Pick out something on Netflix that you want to watch." 

 

"You can choose. If-if there's... some..." He rubs his nose quickly, and again, more roughly. It doesn't work though, and just as he gives a little gasp of a sound, Merlin takes the mug back.

 

"Give it here..." He says, though Arthur can't exactly refuse. 

 

He sneezes twice in a row, rough enough to make his throat start hurting all over again despite the hot medicine and tea.

 

"Oh, Arthur...." Merlin says his name in this quiet, emphatic sort of way, like he's surprised but also sort of fond, sort of affectionate. And Arthur would be scared that he was reading his own feelings into Merlin's words, but Merlin pets the hair at the nape of his neck as he snuffles and and says, in the same quiet voice, "Bless you." 

 

Arthur nods, and holds his nose against the sleeve of his hoodie, ready to catch another sneeze in the crook of his elbow. The faint, tingling sensation backs down, though, and he lowers his arm with a small snuffle. "Um. Thanks... sorry."

 

"Shh, don't apologize for sneezing. Can't help it," Merlin says and pets Arthur's hair again. "You sound stuffy." 

 

Arthur nods again, and feels himself go bashful at the admission. He is completely bunged up, enough so that his sinuses give a little twinge when he tries to snuffle again. The LemSip will help, he knows, as will the tissues that Merlin hands him and the cup of tea when all Arthur can do with his tissues is rub at his nose. His eyes feel tired and watery, too, and for a moment, Arthur just wants to turn and bury his face in Merlin's chest and have Merlin continue to stroke his hair. 

 

The feeling is so strong and sudden that Arthur feels himself shy away from it, and from Merlin. He curls up around his tea with another snuffly sound and ducks his head down to take a few sips. 

 

Merlin's hand slides from his hair to his shoulder, then he moves away and stands up. "Right. I'll bring you more tissues first, then I'll change. D'you need an extra blanket?"

 

Arthur shakes his head, and draws in on himself a bit. "I'm fine." 

 

"Well, you're kind of a blanket hog, I'll bet, so I'll bring the extra one for me." Merlin says. He smiles when Arthur sighs and lingers in the doorway, just for a moment, before slipping away. 

 

When Merlin gets back, he has tissues and the plaid fleece blanket they keep on the sofa, and he's wearing a tee shirt and a pair of ridiculous Christmas print pajama bottoms. 

 

Right as Arthur's about to say something, he also realizes that Merlin looks... well, he looks warm and rumpled and kind of tired from work, and when he nudges Arthur over the on the bed and and half-curls up against Arthur's side, he feels warm, too. 

 

Warm and secure, and not at all like he's going to sigh at Arthur for coughing too much through whatever mindless telly they decide to watch. 

 

Arthur still tenses when he has to cough, and then against when Merlin reaches around to rest the palm of his hand against Arthur's chest. 

 

"Um." Arthur says, uncertain, and pulls away a bit. 

 

"Oh. Sorry." Merlin starts to pull away, too, but then leans back in when Arthur mumbles a a tiny 'no' and rubs his chest lightly. "I'll only look after you as much as you want me to, okay?" 

 

Arthur nods, and looks when that overwhelming feeling of wanting to be as close to Merlin as possible starts to come over him again. "Okay. This is good. I'm just not used to... This." 

 

"That's okay, too. Should I--"

 

"No?" Arthur says, then coughs, and sighs, and murmurs, "Yes, this, yeah. I'm probably contagious, though," he adds, suddenly worried about how close Merlin is curling into him. 

 

Merlin laughs, quiet and low, and rubs Arthur's chest again. "We live in a seriously tiny two-bedroom flat. It'll be fine. Pick something to watch." 

 

So Arthur does, and he dozes off about ten minutes into it, then wakes up to Merlin absentmindedly petting him as he watches something completely different on Arthur's laptop. 

 

Which Arthur decides is fine, as Merlin's also tucked all the blankets over both of them. He smiles when Arthur stirs, tells Arthur to go back to sleep, and nuzzles against Arthur's hair until Arthur feels himself dozing off again.


End file.
